


Charon, In Reverse

by HalfshellVenus



Category: Pushing Daisies
Genre: Canon Character of Color, Community: writerverse, Gen, POV Character of Color
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 10:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4175847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfshellVenus/pseuds/HalfshellVenus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had never been a dull job, and now it was weirder than ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charon, In Reverse

**Author's Note:**

> For the [](http://writerverse.livejournal.com/profile)[writerverse](http://writerverse.livejournal.com/) "Character Spotlight" to focus on a secondary character.

x-x-x-x-x

There was a possibility that Crazy Mofo was not an actual profession, just as there was a possibility (slim) that college tuition for the coroner's granddaughter might cost less than the GNP of several sub-Saharan African nations. The coroner was a man of science, however, and he preferred facts and simpler interpretations of reality.

The reality was this: Detective Mofo and his cohorts were straight-up nuts, but they were good at solving crimes and they also knew the value of cold, hard, tax-free cash.

The coroner didn't know what those folks did when they went in to look at the bodies, and he didn't want to. Could be voodoo rituals or Internet pranks, or even collecting measurements for speculative interests in coffin building. Who could say? Near as he could tell, they didn't damage or harm the bodies in any way, though for some of those poor folks it was hard to imagine things getting any worse than they already were: tire tracks, melted mackintoshes, spikes through the head, and ingestion-by-shark were just a few of the indignities the coroner had seen heaped upon the dead.

Usually, the deaths were as ordinary as their victims—although there'd been a few that had looked like accidents or suicide but were later revealed to be murders. At least Cod and his young people were good for _something_.

There did seem to be a fairly high murder rate in Papen County, compared to other small city areas, but that was none of the coroner's business. He simply did the cleanup work. Today was a doozy of a case, one nearly guaranteed to bring Cod running. There was no question of it being anything like a natural death.

The coroner briefly thought about the ugly necktie hiding in his desk. He'd purchased it with an eye toward provoking one of Cod's outbursts. While Detective Cod's sense of humor wasn't terribly forthcoming, his moments of instantaneous indignation were generally entertaining. Of course, there was also the chance Cod might actually _like_ the tie, given his fondness for evil-colored shirts. No way of telling, with a man like that.

Well, might as well try it and hope for the best. He wasn't getting any younger.

The coroner knew that beggars couldn't be choosers, but then again, he had never been the beggar in this particular setup.

Instead, he was the man who could provide or deny access to the morgue's brand-new feature attraction: a painted, Plaster of Paris statue of a chicken with a legless ranch hand inside.

Mmm- _hmph_.

\--/--


End file.
